


Drama by the Spoonful

by WaywardSun1



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Corporal Punishment, Discipline, Hurt Sam, Non-Consensual Spanking, Protective Dean Winchester, Protective John
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-09
Updated: 2018-04-09
Packaged: 2019-04-20 18:35:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14267106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WaywardSun1/pseuds/WaywardSun1
Summary: My version of why Sammy ran away to Flagstaff. (No actual spoons in the story, despite the title)Dean is 17. Sam is 13.





	Drama by the Spoonful

Dean stared down his friend with an expression of deep disappointment and resentment. "Bobby, I ought to make you do it. This was your fault, after all." 

“My fault? How?” 

 “You encouraged him to disobey me!” 

Bobby scoffed. “I was joking about him going to find the thing on his own. No idea he would take me literally. The boy was-”

“Right, and that’s why you gave him the extra salt rounds,” Dean uttered bitterly as he turned to leave, but he changed his mind and spun back around. “Come with me. You get to watch, that’s your punishment."

“No, thank you.” 

Dean hardened his tone. “I wasn't asking.”

He jerked his head toward the archway to the living room, then left without looking behind him. He knew Bobby had enough guilt in his system to follow him, despite the fact that Dean had no business barking at a man more than twice his age and ordering him about like an errant servant.

Sam was still waiting for them on the couch, much to everyone’s relief. It would go much harder on him if he had tried to run and hide from his misbehavior.

“What did dad say?” asked the boy fearfully, looking back and forth between the two men.

Dean glared at him without speaking, then turned away and slowly removed his jacket and belt. 

“Dean?” prompted Sam. “Is he going to...what are you doing? Is he coming back early?”

Bobby was suddenly fearful for Sam when Dean turned back around, for his expression was darker than it had ever been in recent memory.

“Not after I guaranteed him that the proper punishment will be administered in his absence."

Sam’s face drained of color. “What kind of….” He couldn’t even say it, and his eyes bugged out once his eyes focused on the belt and it finally dawned on him what was about to occur.

“No, Dean. I’ll wait for dad, thanks.”

Bobby jumped in, gently. “Just so you know, Dean is your temporary guardian and has the right to-"

“Just so you know, he is not my father and neither are you, so please stay out of it,” Sam replied, much too smartly for his own good.

They both looked to Dean, who was fidgeting uncomfortably.

“Shut up, Sam.” He had already changed his mind about wanting Bobby to witness this. Not for Sam’s sake, but for his own.

“If you-“

“I said shut up. Bobby, will you please give us some privacy?”

Bobby nodded, looking incredibly relieved. “I’m gonna...uh, wait on the porch, boys.”

When the front door closed, the brothers stared at each other, breathing hard.

Sam was the first to break the silence. “No, Dean. I’m not letting you do this to me.”

That was all it took for Dean to lose his temper. He barked, “I’m not doing anything to you! You can blame yourself for this. Your attempt to be a hero was...was...do you know what could have happened, Sam? At the very least, you could have given away our location and cause us to get ambushed in a heartbeat. Not to mention you nearly got shot by one of our fellow hunters! Thank God there was enough moonlight for him to recognize you a fraction of a second before he fired. I told you not to go out there, but you-" 

“Bobby gave me permission!”

Dean sucked in a deep breath and forced himself to keep his raging temper in check. He hadn’t seethed with such anger in a long time, and it was all rather exhilarating and irritating at once. The urge to completely blow up was almost irresistible, but he kept his tone even.

“Asking him after I already said no doesn’t count. Remember that your first duty is to me, since I’m the one who promised to protect you. I’m the only one you should be asking permission from to do anything when dad isn’t here. Are we clear?”

“But nothing happened! You’re completely overreacting.” He laughed a little. “And you call _me_ a bitch.”

Dean strode forward and slapped his brother across the face.

“ _This_ is happening, Sam,” Dean growled, snapping the belt in his hands. “Put your hands on the table, or so help me God, I will call dad right now and you can do the honor of explaining yourself what just happened. Is that what you want?”

Sam pressed a cold hand to his cheek, tears running from both eyes. It had hurt, yes, but that wasn’t the worst part: Dean had slapped him only once before, and it was such a traumatic experience for both of them that he had solemnly promised to never do it again.

Dean had given his word. And he just broke it.

“Stand up, Sam.”

Sam stood up shakily, considerably more subdued now, and asked on a near-whisper, “But you told dad already, I thought?”

Dean shook his head, also much more subdued suddenly. “I...I just said that for Bobby’s benefit. No. This is between you and me. Put your hands on the table.”

“You’re going to have to tell him anyway,” Sam muttered defiantly as Dean pointed angrily to the dining room table. “I’m not going to subject myself to this twice!”

Dean took a deep breath. “Sam-“

“You’re not dad! What gives you the right to do this to me? You’ve never…you would never…” he looked fearfully at the belt.

“I absolutely will. Now put-"

Sam bolted from the living room and out the front door, catching Dean completely off guard. He cursed as the boy disappeared in a flash. Luckily, Bobby had excellent reflexes and managed to grab him before he got less than ten feet away.

Dean hardened heart as the miscreant was brought inside; he was done with Sam’s antics and wanted nothing more than to put this horrible episode behind them as fast as possible. Mostly, he was just pissed that Sam put himself in so much danger. Again.

This time Bobby stayed, holding Sam in place as Dean advanced and held up the belt in front of him and pointed at it. His tone was one of surprise and hurt.

“Don’t tell me you’re afraid of this? Or of me? I know you’re braver than that, Sam. You also know I would never hurt you. Never. Not as long I live, which honestly won’t be very long at the current rate we’re going.”

The way that offhand comment was delivered shocked and upset Sam. “Don’t say that,” he growled.

”Well, it’s true whether I say it or not. So, are we going to do this, or what?”

“You don’t have to do it,” Sam said matter-of-factly as he jerked his arm out of Bobby’s grasp and wiped his eyes with his sleeve. 

Dean resisted the urge to laugh. Not because anything was funny, but because he was incredibly uncomfortable and way out of his depth. This was a living nightmare.

“So, what...you think you should just get away with everything, huh? Do whatever you want, and damn all the consequences? Even if it gets us killed?”

Sam shook his head and stood up straight, all dignity restored. He had collected himself rather admirably in the last few moments. He sighed heavily, then looked at his brother with equally steely determination.

“No, I didn’t mean that. I just...can Bobby do it, instead of you? I’ll gladly take it from him. Please, Dean.”

Against his inclination, Dean instantly found himself softening towards Sam, his anger draining as rapidly as a dying rainstorm. He understood Sam better than anyone else, and knew why he was asking such a question. Dean was his protector. His friend. Not his father, nor did either of them ever want that kind of arrangement. How could they regard each other only as brothers after this? 

“No, he actually can’t do it for me, even if it was partially his fault.” Dean replied calmly, darting a glare at Bobby, who scowled and slipped outside again. "You are my responsibility, not his.”

Sam was angry again. “Fine. Dad, then. I want to wait for dad. Call him.”

Dean shrugged and reached into his pocket, seemingly giving in to defeat.

“Sure, Sam, so be it. But you realize who he’s really going to blame for interrupting his hunt, right? If you’re okay with having a repeat of what happened to me last time you did something extraordinarily stupid on my watch, go ahead and rat me out.”

Dean handed his phone to Sam, who cautiously reached out to take it, as if it were on fire.

“He wouldn’t...” Sam began, but stopped himself abruptly after dialing the area code. Yes, actually, he would. Had promised to do worse than that, actually. 

Under his brother’s anxious and worried gaze, Sam’s defiance melted away, rapidly replaced by guilt and resignation. And fear. Not for himself, but for Dean.

“Okay,” he agreed shakily as he snapped the phone shut and handed it back. “Pants down?” 

“No,” Dean replied quickly, rather horrified and surprised at Sam’s sudden acquiescence. He froze as the boy trudged to the table and braced himself.

Dean fingered the belt buckle nervously. Now that it was really happening, he didn’t want to do it, and quietly cursed himself for having taken this all upon himself. Maybe he should have waited for dad, even at the cost of his own hide. Then he silently cursed Bobby as well, for putting them in this position in the first place.

“Right, so…twenty seems appropriate,” he said slowly, stalling for time. “I know it’s a lot, but we have to take into account that-”

“It’s fine. Please just get it over with."

“Right,” Dean replied, clearing his throat roughly. He desperately wanted water. Or a stiff drink. “You do know why we’re doing this, correct? I just want to make sure.”

Sam’s voice became muffled as he buried his mouth in his sweatshirt at the crook of his elbow. “Yes. Just get on with it!”

“I just wanted to make sure,” Dean repeated, feeling slightly dizzy. “Because you’re my brother, and I don’t want this to ruin our relationship. After all, I’m not the one who disobeyed orders by running into the woods in the middle of the night trying to make a name for myself. That was you, and I’m just minding my obligations now as your guardian while dad’s away.“

Sam stood up and turned around, a slight smile on his face. But it was intended to be sympathy, not mockery.

“You can’t do it, can you?"

Dean frowned, swallowing hard. At this rate he would never be the authoritative figure his dad wanted him to be. Not yet. Was this the first step, or the last?

He lowered his voice and pleaded, “I have to do it. Please don’t make this any harder on me than it already is.”

Sam laughed. “Harder? Are you serious? I’ve been encouraging you!”

Dean scowled. “Just turn back around,” he ordered shortly, not in the mood for being teased.

Sam did as he was told and braced himself again.

Dean began applying the strokes before he lost his courage, and Sam hollered on each one as if they were being applied with a horsewhip. It unnerved Dean so much that at one point he lost count completely, a cold sweat and panic washing over him. He didn’t want to go over 20 at any cost.

“How...how many was that?” he asked, feeling extremely foolish.

Sam gulped back his tears. “Ten. Please...just get it over with.”

“We’re done for now,” Dean breathed as he quickly re-threaded the belt, his resolve to see the punishment through long gone...or perhaps it was never there to begin with. 

Sam stifled a groan and grumbled defensively, “I can handle it, don’t baby me!”

“I know you can, but I’m gonna use the other ten as a deterrent. You’ll get them if you mouth off to me or Bobby again, on the bare. Even the slightest disrespect will do it. I mean it, Sam.”

He calmed himself with two deep breaths, then leaned over to help Sam up, but his brother just shoved him away and made a move towards the bathroom.

“Sammy”-

“Need to take a piss,” Sam snapped.

He didn’t exit the bathroom for a long time, which didn’t worry Dean at all. His brother was always hostile and cold after a punishment, not needing or wanting any reassurance or forgiveness from their dad. It made sense he would feel the same towards Dean. 

Bobby, on the other hand, was nearly clinging to Dean hand and foot in his own search for forgiveness. It annoyed Dean until it suddenly didn’t, and he found himself quickly giving up the grudge.

“You can stop giving me those puppy dog eyes. I forgive you.”

Bobby looked up at him in surprise. “Well, thank heavens for that. If you kept glaring at me like that for much longer, you’d never be able to smile again. Come here.”

Dean sat next to him on the couch and gratefully clasped the proffered bottle of soda with shaking hands, feeling his heart pounding hard through his shirt and resigning himself to the possibility of Sam never forgiving him.

But at least he might think twice in the future and keep alive longer.

**

Bobby was sound asleep when Sam finally emerged from the bathroom and headed straight to the bedroom without a single glance at the two men.

Dean peeled himself carefully off the couch and followed his brother in, closing the door softly behind him.

“You okay?”

Against all his expectation, the sullen boy turned around and crashed into Dean’s chest with a bear hug that knocked the breath out of both of them.

“I’m sorry, Dean,” he mumbled into the shirt. “I...you...”

“Shhhh. It’s done. Forgiven. I hope it didn’t hurt too much,” Dean murmured into the mop of hair, trying to remember how to breathe again. This was everything he wanted but had been too afraid to remotely hope for.

“Nah. You swing like a girl,” Sam muttered in a subdued tone.

Dean swallowed a groan as he released his brother and stepped back to eye him from head to toe.

“Yeah? Well you yelled like a girl, so...”

Sam gave in and laughed, then rubbed his wet eyes with one hand and his stinging backside with the other; the jeans hadn’t done much to lessen the effect, but it was enough to be grateful for. 

”I was just mad. Thanks for not calling dad.”

Dean put his hands on Sam’s shoulders, still stern and in control. “You can thank me by not arguing with me anymore. And doing what you’re told. And keeping your mouth shut when I explain this all to him in a few days.”

“What? No! You said you...wait...”

Dean smiled down at him, without humor. “I have to tell him. Don’t worry, you won’t get punished again.”

“But _you_ will. No, Dean. You aren’t saying a fucking thing.”

“Watch your language.”

“Oh, right. My language is a big deal suddenly. But you _lied_ to me. Broke a promise.” He shrugged off Dean’s grip and turned around to flop facedown on the bed. “How is that for a big deal?”

Dean scoffed. “No, I came to my senses. Hiding this from dad, _really_? Not even if Bobby hadn’t been here to witness it.”

“I didn’t mean that. I’m talking about...about when you slapped me.”

Dean froze, his expression a mask of emotional turmoil. “Because...you almost got shot, Sammy. Because you went behind my back to Bobby. Do you really want to fight over who betrayed who more? You could have died, on my watch. And you know what? I will do it again if I have to, in order to protect you. No regrets.”

Sam bristled, feeling his cheek burn again at the bitter memory.

”Screw you, Dean,” he grumbled.

Dean turned away to retrieve his leather jacket from the back of a chair and barked, “Go to bed and be quiet, or I’ll give you those other ten reasons to yell, right now. Do you understand me?"

“It’s not even eight o’clock!”

Dean raised his eyebrows and deliberately rested his hands on his belt buckle. “I. Said. _NOW_ _._ ”

With a strangled gasp, Sam slid underneath the bedding and started to tremble. He had never been downright intimidated by Dean before, but now he could barely find the nerve to look at the tall, dark thundercloud who was staring down at him with such unbridled intensity. He was like an entirely different person from the tender one who had appeared just a minute ago. Not his brother at all anymore; almost demon-like in his ferocity.

”Wait. Are your shoes still on?” 

“Ummm, yeah.” He quickly kicked them off to the floor and buried himself again as Dean eyed him warily.

Mistaking the shivers for something else, Dean turned to grab a blanket off his own bed, shook it out, and gently laid it over his brother’s form. But he offered no other comfort, and his mood was still frightening the hell out of Sam, who dared not move or breathe.

Dean looked straight down at him, expression unreadable, but tone calm once again. “I’m going to the store. You need anything?”

He actually did want gummy bears, but replied quietly, “No. Thanks.”

Dean looked about to say something else entirely, but then shrugged and said, “Okay. Back soon. You stay here.”

When Dean returned an hour later, he set something crinkly on the bed next to his brother’s pillow. Sam was pretending to be asleep, so he didn’t open his eyes to look. But he could smell the gummy bears and just laid there with a huge lump in his throat, feeling his brother’s eyes on him.

”I know you’re awake, Sammy,” Dean said quietly. “Can we talk?”

Sam waited a few beats, then slowly and deliberately pushed the bag off the side of the bed without opening his eyes.

Dean stared at him for a long moment, then at the bag on the floor, and turned and left without another word.

——

  
John Winchester was back four days later, and Dean did not waste any time explaining in detail everything that had happened in his absence. He hoped his dad would let this particular incident go, but that was not to be. He interrupted Dean’s retelling halfway through to call Sam out to him immediately.

“Wait. Dad-“ protested Dean.

“Quiet, Dean.”

“I haven’t finished telling you everything! Can we just...please, just two more minutes.”

John nodded. “Outside. Sam? You stay right there. Do not move.”

They went outside to the patio, and Dean braced himself for what he was about to say.

“Dad, please let this go. He was already punished, and knowing I will be too is even worse for him. He’s been behaving perfectly since then, and it feels wrong going backwards now. It’s just going to undo everything I did.”

John scowled at him. “I never said I was going to punish you.”

“Not yet...but dad, I slapped him. Hard.”

John’s eyebrows went so far up that they almost disappeared into his hairline.

“Dean! Are you kidding me? After last time? I told you to never, _ever_ -“

“I’m so sorry,” Dean pleaded in an anguished tone. “It was...he scared me so bad. I overreacted.”

His father broke off and looked away, irritation and disappointment sketched into every line on his face. “Right. Well, _now_ you’re getting punished.”

“Yes, sir,” Dean replied without any hesitation or change in expression.

John sighed deeply, already hating what his oldest son had just forced him into. He wasn’t even angry about it, but he could never admit that. An order was an order was an order.

“But let’s be clear on the rest of this debacle. Look at me, Dean.” Now he softened his tone. “None of this would have happened if Bobby hadn’t given him the go-ahead! If anyone should have gotten the belt, it was him. I don’t blame you at all for what Sam did, and I’m proud of the way you handled it instead of waiting for me. That took a special kind of courage and maturity. Next time, though, control your anger better. And your fear.”

 _Next time._ Oh god...

“Thank you, and I will, but dad, I...I respectfully disagree about Bobby. Sam knew exactly what he was doing and manipulated him into agreeing. That’s why I was so angry.”

John sighed heavily as he thought about that angle. “Understandable. Bobby should have deferred to you anyway, but I suppose this was bound to happen sooner or later. Too many cooks in the kitchen. We need to leave this house and get back to staying in motels. Anything else to tell me?”

“No, sir. _Please_ don’t punish Sam again.”

”I won’t. Come on.”

They went back inside. Sam was standing in the middle of the living room like a statue, rooted to the carpet. Dean threw him a look that dared him to say a word to make this worse. He had, after all, promised to keep his mouth shut.

“You alright, Sam?” asked John, gently.

Sam blinked in surprise. “Uh. Yes, sir.”

He wasn’t being snarky, as promised, but there was a long silence so tense that the hair on the back of Dean’s neck stood up.

“I understand your brother slapped you.”

Sam glanced at Dean, who nodded.

“Yes, sir,” Sam then confirmed, although it was clear he didn’t want to.

“He has agreed to pay for that shortly. And I understand you already paid for your misdeeds, so we’re going to let this go. But I want to _strongly_ remind you that you must obey Dean’s orders. No exceptions, no excuses. And no more manipulating Bobby bullshit, or anyone else for that matter. This happens again, we’re having a serious come-to-Jesus intervention you’ll regret for the rest of your life. Are we clear?”

Dean’s heart stopped cold at that; Sam was highly prone to throwing fits upon being threatened in such a manner.

“Yes, dad,” Sam replied calmly, although there was a brief flash of raw hostility in his eyes at the same time. John caught the reaction but pretended not to notice; it would only open an entire can of worms that he didn’t have the energy to deal with right now.

“Good. You can go back to watching TV now. Dean, outside with me.”

Dean breathed a sigh of relief and nodded gratefully at Sam, flushing hotly as he followed his dad. He had no idea what was about to happen next. Why outside? Maybe running a few miles, push-ups? He was way too old for the paddle or belt over the trunk now, and John had never once used a switch on his boys due to his own experience on the receiving end of it.

Maybe they would be having a traditional drive-and-talk in the Impala. Yes, that had to be it. But John made no move to open the doors as he led his very anxious son back to the trunk.

“I’m pissed as hell at you right now. It’s been a long time since you disobeyed an order, so I thought were past these kinds of conversations. But I also appreciate the fact that you told me you did it, especially knowing Sam never would have. Why did you even tell me at all? Guilty conscience?”

Dean nodded. “That, and...you always said not telling the whole truth is just as bad as a lie. I do listen to you dad, even if you think I don’t, and I can’t lie to you. I’m really sorry.”

”Understood. Did you apologize to Sam?”

”Not yet, but I will after this.”

”Good. Have I ever slapped you in the face, son?”

”No, sir.”

”Have you ever deserved it?”

Dean nodded, unable to speak in all his anxiety. Dozens of times, he knew.

“Exactly. Dean, there are very few lines that cannot be crossed in this family, but that’s one of them. You know it better than anyone. Go cut a switch.”

  
——

When Dean returned to the bedroom afterwards (having been sent to bed absurdly early and with no dinner), Sam was crying again - but just barely, a few sparse tears. He flipped around to face the wall so Dean couldn’t see his face.

Dean sighed as he closed the door and set down Sam’s burger, fries, and water on the nightstand.  

“Bobby just came back with food. Eat.”

No response.

“Stop pouting, Sam. It’s finally over and done with. You can relax,” he said calmly as he carefully and painfully sat on the creaky old bed. “And thanks for keeping your promise and not popping off on dad.”

Sam still didn’t respond, so Dean tapped him hard on the hip.

“Hey. You’ve barely said a word to me for days. Please talk to me. What’s going on in your head right now? You’re not usually the silent type.”

Sam was surprised at Dean’s gentle tone and turned around to look at his brother in wonder. Dean reached out and took one of Sam’s hands in his own to steady himself, still feeling nauseated and dizzy from the whole affair outside. He was glad the room was fairly dark so that Sam couldn’t see his teary face, either.

“Trust me, I have plenty to say,” Sam muttered.

“Go ahead. I’m listening.”

“Since when? All you ever tell me to do is be quiet. When I’m quiet, you want me to talk. You can’t have it both ways.”

Dean smiled to himself, despite the seriousness of the situation. The poor boy was nearly beside himself with guilt. He replied lightly, “Well, you can’t hate me that much, since you finally opened the bag of gummy bears.” He grinned. “You might notice some are missing, by the way. I kinda got the munchies last night.”

”I don’t hate you,” Sam replied solemnly.

”And I don’t believe you. You’re killing me, here.”

Sam shifted his position all the way around so that he was laying with his head on Dean’s leg, facing his stomach. He used do it all the time when he was little, and now he looked about 6 years old again. Dean felt terribly sad suddenly.

“No,” Sam whispered. “It’s dad I hate. And this life. I want to...I don’t want to be here anymore, Dean. And I won’t be for much longer, just so you know. I’ve been making plans.”

Dean paused for a moment, heart racing, then ran a soothing hand through his brother’s hair. He had to tell himself to breathe and remain calm. “Please stop. He should be leaving tomorrow for a few weeks, and it will be just you and me for a while.”

“What did he do to you? Just now, I mean? Was it the switch?”

The long fingers paused. “Yes, and I deserved it. I’m so sorry, Sammy. For...so many things.”

“No. Nobody deserves that. Especially not you. Why did you tell him, anyway? It’s not like I was going to.”

Dean sighed. “We’ve talked about this before. How there are no actions without consequences-“

“Yeah, yeah, _and without consequences there’s no point in having a conscience_. But I don’t understand why you take the blame for everything I do, which... which is a lot. Dean, be honest. I’m making your life miserable, aren’t I?”

Ah. So that was it. Dean had to wait a few moments to find his voice again. He didn’t want his brother to hear the tears that were caught in his throat.

“No, Sammy,” he croaked, failing to keep his voice steady. “You’re the only thing making my life _bearable_. I need you to stay here. I want you to stay here.”

“Even after today? And  _that_ day? 

He meant four days ago, of course. A day that was destined to dwell and fester in their minds forever.

“ _Especially_ after that day. Today was a piece of cake in comparison.”

That perked Sammy up a little. ”Really? So, the switch wasn’t that bad, then?”

Dean’s eye twitched at the sheer magnitude of _wrong_ in that assumption.

“Worst thing ever. I don’t want to talk about it,” he mumbled; it had been an astonishingly painful and humbling experience that neither of them ever wished to repeat. In fact, when the last stripe had drawn blood, John vowed silently on the spot that nothing could ever induce him to use a switch again. Not that he would tell either of his boys that, of course. Let them fear it, especially Dean.

Sam fell silent as his brother shifted his weight again in a useless effort to relieve the fiery brands across his bottom and continued to run fingers through his hair. It was soothing, but not soothing enough. Sam was growing incredibly angry, and Dean picked up on it. Now the long fingers were under his chin, gently forcing it upwards.

“Sam, listen up. I meant it when I said I deserved it. I failed you...but you also failed me. You have to promise me that you won’t give me another reason to take my belt off again, though. Do you understand me? I don’t want to go through that again. It would break my heart." _It already has_ , he added to himself.

”Wait. Are you going to tell dad what I said? About hating him?”

”No!”

“You sure he’s leaving tomorrow? And it will just be us for a few weeks?”

”Supposed to. We’ll know soon enough.”

“Sometimes I wish he wouldn’t come back,” Sam murmured.

Dean kicked off his shoes. ”Don’t say that. Or think it. Move over.”

Dean laid down and pulled Sam close, holding him tight and resting his chin on his head. Once again, they both were struggling not to burst into tears. Sam, because he was afraid their father wouldn’t leave, and Dean, because he was afraid he wouldn’t come back.

They had already lost their mother. It was too much to bear.

The door flew open suddenly, John looking in to see if his instructions were being obeyed. Dean waved a hand from where was dutifully lying down, so John instead ordered Sam to eat, and departed silently.

There was a long silence in which both of them pondered what would have happened if Dean hadn’t laid down only ten seconds earlier, then Sam suddenly laughed aloud at the enormous rolling grumble that came from his brother’s stomach.

“Right on cue, as usual,” Dean muttered.

”Ha. Have the burger. I’m not hungry,” Sam said, somewhat unconvincingly.

”Thanks, but I can’t,” Dean replied simply; no further words were needed.

“Oh...sorry.” 

“You have to eat it. Dad will be really upset with you if it goes to waste.” 

”I don’t care. Not hungry.”

At that moment, Sam’s stomach betrayed him and rumbled even louder than Dean’s had. But no one was laughing now.

”Eat. All of it.”

“No.”

” _Sam_. I won’t tell you again.”

”Good.”

Dean leaned back and ferociously swatted Sam’s backside before he even realized what he was doing, causing his brother to leap out of bed with a startled yelp.

”What the _fuck_ , Dean?” he hissed as he grabbed his rear, thankfully having the presence of mind not to shout the oath loud enough to be heard in the living room. 

“I...” Dean was so surprised by his own action, and even outright embarrassed, that he didn’t know what to say.

“Seriously?” Sam demanded. “This is how it’s going to be now?”

“That’s up to you,” Dean retorted angrily. “Better me than dad, Sam. You know he would just be pissed at you and make you eat it for breakfast anyway, and then the two of you will be fighting about it all day. Why do you have to be such a...such a...” he trailed off, feeling sad and bewildered all at once.

Sam came back to his senses now, fully recognizing where he had gone wrong, but not yet ready to apologize.

”Don’t ever do that again. I can handle myself, thank you,” he grumbled as he grabbed his food and sat to eat at the little table in angry silence, Dean watching him closely the entire time. Waiting for an apology. Or at least an acceptance of how things needed to be from now on.

Several minutes of thoughtful silence passed in the darkening room before Dean could not longer keep quiet about Sam’s disturbing revelation.

“Hey. About what you said earlier? Just...I mean, I get it. I do. But don’t run away, Sammy. Please.”

Sam stood up, threw the food wrappers in the trash, and handed Dean the last of the steak fries - about a dozen of them, enough to cure the hunger until morning.

“My turn to force you to eat something. I won’t take no for an answer, either.”

Dean took them gratefully, to hell with protocol for once - it was far more important to accept a peace offering.

“Thanks, Sammy. Are you going to answer me, though?”

“Yes. I want to stay with you,” Sam replied quietly as he crawled back into the bed alongside his brother. It was true, of course. But he wouldn’t promise not to leave anyway.

Dean had to accept that answer, and he nodded as he wolfed down the fries. In his exhaustion he was soon deeply asleep, wrapped around his beloved brother like an octopus around a shell.

Sam couldn’t sleep at all thanks to the thoughts that raced through his mind over and over. If only...no, there was no “if only.” Their lives would always be like this as long as Sam and John were together. Sam was never going to change, so Dean would never have peace. That was certain.

Sam slowly reached out his free arm to the nightstand and quietly dug into the bag of gummy bears. He slowly ate the last three, savoring them separately, when he suddenly came to a decision. He reached out again and picked up the Greyhound bus brochure. In the dim light the list of destinations was barely visible, but one particularly catchy name caught his attention:

 _Flagstaff, Arizona_  
 


End file.
